My Own Dark Mark
by Gollum
Summary: Well, Tom R and Harry are in the Chamber of Secrets. Tom is getting the better of Harry and persuades Harry to join the dark side, in return for his parents. What will happen...???? Mwah ha ha... please R&R!
1. Default Chapter

'You know, Harry, I can teach you more than Dumbledore ever could,' Tom Riddle hissed. The torchlight flickered in the darkness of the Chamber of Secrets. Harry tried to pick himself up off the floor. He ached all over with a fierce, knawing pain.  
  
'Power, Harry. Come to me, and you will have power,' Tom Riddle's face was half-lit in the flames of torch light, his high cheekbones accentuated, his smile twisted and malevolent.  
  
'Never!' Harry gasped. His throat seemed to be clenched tightly, his wind pipe small as a straw. It hurt so much. 'You… you killed my parents! You're a murderer! And…' he paused for breath, 'you are Evil.'  
  
'Come to me, and you will have your parents back,' Tom said softly. Harry froze. 'Yes,' Tom agreed, 'I know what you want. I am an orphan too, you know. There are many similarities between us. I know how much you want them, and I can give them to you. The White side cannot – only using 'good' spells – they cannot bring back what is gone. Their magic is not powerful enough. I can bring them back to you, Harry. Come to me, become a death- eater, and you will live in the lap of luxury. I will give you money, you can have your own house where you will never speak to the Dursleys again. And your parents will live with you.'  
  
Harry's head felt like it was being lashed by a thousand tornados. Everything he'd ever wanted – he could have back his parents. His heart told him he had to, of course he had to. What sort of a fool would he be to turn down such an opportunity. But his head shrieked that he couldn't – he couldn't become one of them. Not one of the death-eaters – not him. He was supposed to help people – help get rid of the death-eaters. They were cruel, evil. They'd kill him if they could.  
  
So, wouldn't it be better to be on their side? Where they wouldn't harm him? And where he had his parents to keep him safe?  
  
'Let me explain the transaction in a little more detail,' Tom said quietly, 'I know how much you want your parents. Alas, nobody could ever perform such a spell for me. But I can do this for you, Harry Potter. Doesn't it make sense? We are the most powerful wizards – shouldn't we be joined as fellow friends, not as enemies? I can give you everything, if you'll only turn to us. Your parents – their souls are in my wand, Harry. I can release them. I can, of course, bring back their bodies which, one their souls have joined, will appear normal. As if nothing has happened. They will, of course, be on our side too. I will teach you everything you need to know to fight the White Wizards. We can take over everything – rule the world! And your parents will be right behind you, in your own house with fifty swimming pools and as many Firebolts as you want. I can see you are tempted, Harry. Come to my side.'  
  
Harry tried to think straight. Of course not – no. He couldn't.  
  
But, everything Tom said made so much sense. And he'd have his parents again.  
  
He struggled to stand up, leaning with his weight on a cold stone pillar. Every part of his body ached so that he could barely breathe. If he didn't join Voldemort's side, Tom could kill him now, and he wouldn't even be able to put up a fight.  
  
'If you agree to join us, I will instantly remove the pain you feel,' Tom said, apparently reading his mind, 'Of course, if you do not consent, I can kill you with one swish and flick of my wand. It's as simple as that.'  
  
Harry felt faint. Yes. Yes – he had no choice, did he? And, he wanted to see his parents so badly. To talk to them, to have them there.  
  
What about Ron? And Hermione?  
  
'Do you love your parents enough to join me?' Tom said, beginning to hiss again, 'Or don't they matter as much as Hogwarts, and Dumbledore, and Ron and Hermione?'  
  
'Yes!' Harry said finally, 'yes, OK. I'll do it. I will become a death eater!'  
  
At once, the room began to spin, faster and faster, like Floo powder only more violently. The flickering colours merged and the air seemed to rush past so fast that it was difficult to breathe. He could see the motionless figure of Tom Riddle about a yard away from him, calm and collected. Harry tried to reach him, but the wind whipped his outstretched fingers like knives.  
  
Then with a sudden flash on luminous pink, everything stopped. The colours cleared. Harry was standing in a large, bright room, filled with expensive furniture and ornaments. The thick carpet was crimson and matched exactly the blood-red velvet of the curtains. A cheerful fire flickered in the well- maintained inglenook fire-place, and Tom settled down on a long velvet couch, and snapped his fingers with lazy authority. At once, a hooded man came running in to the room, bent double and bowing low.  
  
'Weasley,' Tom acknowledged. Harry gave a start. The face under the hood was that of Bill Weasley – Ron's brother.  
  
'Bill?' Harry said softly. Bill appeared not to hear him.  
  
'Get me a drink and some food,' Tom said, 'and some for Mr Potter here. Bring him some robes. And, I want my Lupus Group here.'  
  
'My Lord,' Bill agreed, bowing so low that his hood nearly swept the floor, and retreating backwards out of the room.  
  
'Do you like my house, then, Harry?' Tom asked in an uncharacteristically friendly manner.  
  
'Yes,' Harry agreed guardedly.  
  
'Funny, really, if you think about it. Everyone could have this, if they wanted. All they have to do is join me. But they don't understand. I'm glad you saw sense, Harry. You and I will be partners, I think. I will build you a house like this right next to mine where you can live with your parents. I will teach you everything I know, and we will work together.'  
  
'Yes,' Harry said again, 'when do I get to see my parents?'  
  
'My Wolves – my dear Lupus group – will see to that,' Tom said, 'here they are now.'  
  
Bill Weasley appeared at the head of a group of five identically dressed figures, in long hooded robes. Bill Weasley was floating a large tray, laden with food, which he set down on the coffee table in front of Tom, before bowing and leaving. The Lupus group all leant down on one knee in front of Tom, heads lowered.  
  
'These, Harry, are my most trusted death eaters,' Tom explained, 'my loyal wolves. They carry out my tasks for me – they are my unquestioning army. Malfoy here is the leader. Malfoy?'  
  
'My Lord,' Malfoy – the spitting image of Draco only older – bowed low.  
  
'You will find and restore the bodies of Lily and James Potter. Bring them here. Mr Potter has agreed to join us, and they will be his prize for doing so. Meanwhile, direct the other death-eaters to magic a house on the West side of this, where the Potters will dwell. Make it grand, and comfortable.'  
  
'My Lord, we Lupi marvel at your genius in collecting the most powerful of the White wizards and the tasks are as good as done,' Malfoy said softly. Tom nodded and flapped a hand lazily, at which the instantly apparated away.  
  
'Now for the initiation process,' Tom said, a smile crossing his face briefly, 'Weasley! The robes!'  
  
Bill appeared instantly, bowed low, and deposited black velvet robes on the table. Tom flicked his wand, and instantly flames engulfed Harry – burning away his Hogarts robes. He yelled and tried to put them out, but Tom was louder.  
  
'They will not hurt you, Harry. They're merely for the robes,' he shouted. Harry tried to stand still, his mind working away fearfully, but Tom was right. The flames felt cold on his skin. Tom flicked his wand again, and the black velvet robes immediately enfolded Harry in their darkness. The flames disappeared.  
  
'Show me your wand arm,' Tom hissed. He stood up, powerful and authoritative, as Harry rolled up his sleeve.  
  
'Repeat after me: I Harry Potter do solemnly swear,'  
  
Harry's mouth seemed to work of its own accord, 'I Harry Potter do solemnly swear.'  
  
'To give my soul, my will and my mind to Lord Voldemort for all eternity.'  
  
No, Harry thought, no, I don't solemnly swear that. But it was too late, his mouth was already saying 'to Lord Voldemort, for all eternity.'  
  
'In return for which I will be awarded my parents,'  
  
'In return for which I will be awarded my parents.'  
  
'And I will work for Lord Voldemort for as long as he requires my will.'  
  
'And I will work for Lord Voldemort for as long as he requires my will.'  
  
'For better or for worse,'  
  
'For better or for worse.'  
  
'Lord Voldemort is now my Messiah.'  
  
'Lord Voldemort is now my Messiah.'  
  
Harry glanced up, and Voldemort raised his wand. Harry closed his eyes and felt the spell slice through the flesh on his arm and branch agony across his body. He screamed and his body contorted in the pain until suddenly, everything stopped. He sat up, and looked down at his arm.  
  
On it, the Dark Mark was burnt deeply into his flesh.  
  
'Now,' Voldemort smiled, 'you are mine, Harry Potter.' 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.  
  
Thanks to my reviewers, you made me smile all day!  
  
I'd better do a disclaimer thing, I think, seeing as everyone else seems to….  
  
I do not own any of these characters, unfortunately for me they are still the property of JK Rowling. Unless I invent some, which I haven't yet.  
  
The ugly blackness of the tattoo on Harry's arm burnt all through that night. By morning, the lines were crusted in red-dark scabs and Harry flinched as he drew on the velvet robes he'd worn the day before. He put on his glasses and looked around him.  
  
The room was large, and grand, undoubtedly part of Tom Riddle's from the blood red curtains, bedspread and carpet. It was very dark, in there, only a trickle of sunlight leaking through the closed curtains. Instinctively, Harry reached for his wand to light up the room.  
  
It was not there.  
  
No, his wand – it was always with him…  
  
Frantically, he searched by the side of his four poster bed, around the room, in the folds of his robes. It was definitely not there.  
  
He flung open the bedroom door and ran down the wide staircase, in to the luxurious room he'd been in with Tom Riddle the previous day. Tom was sitting on the couch in a red dressing gown and slippers, two wands in his hand, swishing coloured sparks in the air.  
  
'My wand!' Harry said furiously. Tom turned.  
  
'Oh, good morning, Harry Potter. I trust you slept well?'  
  
'I want my wand.'  
  
'Of course, of course. I just had to perform a few spells on it. Normal procedure, you know. We have to get rid of the White magic.'  
  
Harry snatched at the wand, but Tom pulled it away, a slight smile spreading across his face.  
  
'Oh, we're impatient today!' he said softly, 'got out of bed on the wrong side, did we? I think you should remember the magic word when you're asking for something. Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?'  
  
Harry's scar lit up suddenly in pain, his arm throbbed. He was so powerless without his wand.  
  
'Please may I have my wand?' he asked, somewhat reluctantly.  
  
'Oh dear,' Tom sighed, playing games, 'it seems that Mr Harry Potter has forgotten how to address the Dark Lord. I shouldn't think he'll be getting back this until he asks properly,' lazily he swished the wand towards Harry. And orange spark hit Harry's chest and immediately he felt himself being pushed to the floor in a worshipping bow, his arms extended.  
  
'Much better,' Voldemort said sweetly.  
  
Harry felt desperate – he needed his wand so much. Without it, he may as well have been another muggle. He gave in.  
  
'Please, Lord Voldemort, please give me back my wand.'  
  
'Hmmm,' Tom pondered, 'better… but I'd prefer Master. And beg. I want to hear you beg for the wand.'  
  
'No!' Harry protested instinctively. Voldemort flicked the wand again and a pain danced through Harry's scar into his mind, treading heavily across his brain, seeming to crush every instinct left in him.  
  
'Lord Voldemort,' he gasped, 'most excellent master of the dark Arts, I beg of you to please return to me my wand.'  
  
'Good,' Voldemort praised warmly, and handed him the wand, 'in future you must always address me in that way, Potter. Now, I have a little surprise for you.'  
  
'Wait!' Harry was inspecting his wand. It was a sooty black, and at the tip a pure white Dark Mark emblem was burnt in to the wood. When he held it, it seemed to vibrate with some evil energy. It made him shiver. 'What have you done to my wand?'  
  
'A simple spell to make sure that it can only ever perform dark arts, followed by a moderative spell so that it can only do spells I want it to. Now, today I….'  
  
'But I thought we were supposed to be working together? How are we working together if I can only perform certain spells?'  
  
'Oh Harry,' Tom sighed gently, 'you are so very naïve. You'll feel better once you see my generous gift.'  
  
Harry looked at him grudgingly. Voldemort clicked his fingers authoritatively, and at once two robed death eaters entered the room, carrying between them two figures, who looked too weak to stand alone. As the figures neared, Harry nearly vomited in revulsion, and turned away, tears in his eyes.  
  
It was his parents.  
  
His father's face was a deathly white, skin stretched over gaunt cheekbones, lips a thin bloodless line of blue. His eyes, the same green as Harry's, were open wide in a deathly stare and one was pierced a little, so that blackish juice from within dribbled down his cheek. His mother looked no more than a skeleton, her long red hair tangled into a gross mat behind her head and her eyes almost closed, surrounded by dark bruising so that the swelling was accentuated by the lack of fat in her face. Both of them had long scars across their foreheads, lightning scars like Harry's, only theirs burned as if they were fresh.  
  
'Harry!' they whispered in unison.  
  
'No!' Harry cried, 'I didn't want this! What have you done to them?'  
  
'I've brought them back to life,' Tom said simply, 'you asked me to. You did this. They'll look better once they've got used to all this again – I'm afraid they had to be beaten to submission, they were both rather set on returning to Dumbledore's side when we brought them back. Now, let me leave you to some quality family time, while I supervise the building of your house,' he gave the slightest of sniggers and apparated away.  
  
Harry looked at his parents again, trying to imagine them as they were before, trying to ignore the gaunt deadness of their skin and the staring eyes.  
  
'Harry,' Lily whispered, 'why have you done this to us?'  
  
'I…I thought it was for the best…I wanted you there with me… I didn't know it would be like this.'  
  
'We were always there,' James said, his voice cracked and dry, 'Harry, you've ruined it all! Enslaving yourself to the Dark Lord, what on earth were you thinking? You'll never get out of it. Never.'  
  
'I didn't know how it would be!' Harry whimpered. Tears began to form in his eyes, 'I…he was going to kill me otherwise. I had no choice!'  
  
'There is always choice,' Lily answered quietly, 'always. You've done wrong, Harry. Evil! Evil, evil son! Don't you see what you have done to us?'  
  
'At least you're alive!' Harry protested, 'didn't I give you that?'  
  
'Alive!,' James spat, 'what sort of a life is it, if we are dedicated to being slaves for the man who killed us.'  
  
'What can I do?' Harry asked, 'how can I change it?'  
  
'It's too late,' Lily replied, 'too late, Harry. You must help him now. Help him destroy the White Side. Look out for yourself only. The brand on your arm doesn't just bind your body to him, but your will too, you know. You will never be able to leave him.'  
  
'Indeed, indeed,' Tom swept back in to the room, 'the Potters are a clever family, are they not, Malfoy?'  
  
'Certainly, certainly,' the death eater behind him hissed, 'your living quarters are ready, Potters.'  
  
They followed Voldemort to the door in silence. Outside, dark clouds rolled in the sky and Harry longed for his Nimbus 2000 to fly away into the air. He was forced to re-think, however, when he saw the house they'd magicked.  
  
'Ten bedrooms,' Tom said casually, 'three swimming pools. Do allow me to show you round.'  
  
He held open the door and Harry entered, followed by his parents.  
  
Immediately, everything changed. Harry barely had time to blink before he was in a dark, airless room. No, not a room. A cell. Stone floor, iron bars. No window. A bucket in one corner.  
  
His parents were not with him.  
  
'How do you like your new home, then?' Tom said pleasantly, 'I think it does look rather better from outside, but then, no where's perfect. You will stay in here, Harry Potter, until you are completely under my spell, in a manner of speaking. Your parents have similar houses, bless them. And don't waste energy trying to escape, this cell is completely spell proof. Harry, you may as well give in to me now. You'll never get away.' 


	3. Chapter 3

Harry sat in the darkness of his cell night after night, day after day. Nobody came. Each minute passed by as slowly as a month, and though he tried to amuse himself by trying to cast spells, it seemed that Tom was right and that the cell was completely spell proof. He felt aged by years when finally he heard Tom's intoxicating voice approaching.  
  
'We will see how much he has given in,' Tom was saying smoothly, 'by now he should be putty in our hands. We must mould him. If he is ready, you will teach him elementary dark magic, the simple spells. Avada kedavra, crucio. Easy stuff. Aah, Mr Potter,' Tom's face glowed beneath his hood from the light of his lit wand. 'And how are you feeling today?'  
  
Harry could not bring himself to speak. Tom was right – he was becoming more submissive. What else could he do? He'd die if he didn't give in to Voldemort now. Tom was his only hope for survival. And in the heavy darkness of the cell, who was to say what was right and what was wrong? Just because he'd been brought up in a biassed White household and school, who was to say that their values were right? Hadn't he suffered enough?  
  
'Perhaps he needs a little longer alone to think,' Tom's voice sliced the silence.  
  
'No,' Harry said instantly, 'no I'm ready. Teach me dark magic. I want revenge on the people who hurt me – the Dursleys, Draco. Cho Chang. It's not fair. I want to get back at them.'  
  
Tom's face changed smoothly into a silky smile.  
  
'You are clever, Harry Potter,' he said quietly, 'Weasley, open the cell.'  
  
A hissed variation of Alohomora swung the door open, and Harry struggled to his feet. He felt weak, and the blood rushed from his head, making him stagger dangerously. Tom caught his arm.  
  
'Some food first for Mr Potter, I think,' he said, 'and then the lessons.'  
  
Harry could see nothing when he first stepped into the daylight; his eyes took what seemed like an age to accustom to it. When eventually he could see what he was doing, he staggered after the other death eaters towards the house.  
  
A long mirror ran the length of the hallways of Tom's house, and as Harry walked past he couldn't help turning to look at it, to see how terrible he looked after his long imprisonment. When he looked, however, all he could see were seven identical figures. He couldn't tell one from another at all.  
  
Now, he was truly one of them.  
  
Sorry, I know a lot hasn't happened yet but it will move faster in the next chapter, I promise!  
  
Please review!  
  
Thanks. 


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